Thursday, October 09, 2008

Yesterday was the Wednesday before... If you know me or have read me for a while, you will note a cycle of events, and we hit the woetime when it is the Wednesday before.

I woke up late. 6.15am is late when you enjoy the timelessness of 5.30am.

V has been unwell all week. On Monday I was all consideration and sweetness. On Tuesday I treated him with cotton-wool gloves. These came off on Wednesday.

I know its not his fault he is unwell - but it was a catalyst for an internal conversation screaming match I held when I escaped with 'Salina on our bike ride.

One good thing about the irrational rage and unappeased anger swells I have on such days is that I can recognise them and try to stuff them away or stop them from spilling out into the real world (too much).

It is about the only good thing - although my sister-outlaw on the Croatian side once said it most perfectly in a hormone-charged conversation she had with her partner (that we got to be witness to) "its at this time of month, mate, that I don't placate you and tell you how it REALLY is".

Sister-outlaw's partner is originally from Zimbabwe and had 9 sisters, a mother and a grandmother who all cycled together. His grandfather taught him quite young to run for the hills when the moon was in a certain phase. Unfortunately sister-outlaw hunted him down.

As I said to a client yesterday, one thing to be said for partners and spouses is it gives you something to focus on.

Anyhow - I am over that now, and had talked myself into being over that by the time we got to the post office.

'Salina asked if we could buy something special from the Bakery. Okay, so maybe I wasn't so much over it as scanning the world for a new focus for the rage, and so she got a more vehement explanation as to why we couldn't do that at this point in time that had more to do with financial crisis and priorities than was necessary to emphasise, no doubt.

It did put me in mind, however, to get a treat for V because he had been the unwitting recipient of my inner dialogue earlier and because I like to make up for my bitchiness in cheap thrills.

So I lashed out and got him TWO newspapers.

While getting the coins from my purse, I noticed a couple of lotto tickets I hadn't checked.

Over here, you can be a registered lotto cardholder, which by rights means if you throw your winning ticket out you can still claim - and in fact, I believe they will even tell you if you have won the big bucks (correct me if I am wrong).

I know that the odds of winning lotto are less than being kicked to death by a donkey, but I also know the only way to guarantee you WON'T win is to not have a ticket.

Sort of like the only way NOT to get kicked to death by a donkey is to stay away from their rear end.

We are registered cardholders, but we have never received the call. I don't know if the above is an urban myth or not, so I hoard all of our tickets and every so often find them all in one place and get the poor newsagency girl to check them all for me to make sure.

Yesterday, our luck changed. WE WON!!!!

Okay, it was only $18.90 - not a bad return for the $660 investment over the last two years, hey?

Still, it bought a bakery item for 'Salina and a small settling of the mind for me.

Of course, on our cycle this morning, 'Salina noticed a lotto where you could win $10 million tonight - which would definitely come in handy.

I explained to her there are chances to win millions almost every night these days, and we have to limit ourselves to chosing only one night to focus our attention on, as it could be a bit expensive to try our luck on all.

But, to quote an old friend of mine, when asked to explain his ability to be anti-gambling AND buying lotto tickets "Its not gambling. Its my ONLY chance."

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comments:

*heehee* I very (very, very) rarely buy a lotto ticket. But when I do I do one of those 'quickpick' ones. They usually get me back my $ and I'm always happy with that. Now if I bought a ticket every week I would be guarenteed 'not' to win.

Hi Jeane ... I just followed you here from Dream Mom, read about your friend and thought I'd give you this poem for them. It's a poem I wrote about my own special needs son a few years ago ..well, several now ...

A Mother's Heart by Peggikaye Eagler

Every mother had Dreams, Of a Child perfect and whole.Every mother has Hopes, For perfection, body and soul.